Goodbye Old Friend
by Laurena Garret
Summary: A trip to the vet results in some unwanted news. [Slipperverse] Established Tim McGee/fem!Harry Potter


_**Warnings [entire story]: Mild language, character death and possible need for Kleenex. **_

_A/N: This is a little sadder than what I have been writing, but I'm blaming that on the summer heat and the fact that I have no control over the TV at the moment because the Cricket is on. My bad mood therefore is going over into my writing. _

_The ending was inspired by a couple of episodes in The Closer. _

_ Visit my Tumblr for updates regarding my fanfiction shenanigans - link is in my profile._

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The text came as a shock. Tim was used to receiving text messages from Harry at all times of the day or night, depending on what case she was currently working on, but he hadn't been expecting to get one from her today. She had scheduled today off so she could take Jethro (now known as Jet in their house) to the vet after dropping her Godson at the airport.

He dragged the phone out of his pocket, unsure what he was going to find on the screen once he had unlocked it; after all text messages were for when one or both of them were working on a case, they called when they weren't and right now Team Gibbs were going through cold cases.

Apparently the summer heat meant that all the murderers had gone on vacation.

The message was short and simple:

_When are you going to be home? - HP_

Harry always signed her texts, a habit that started years before when they had first met and Harry was still having problems with Tom Riddle. They had believed that it would be the best way to identify that it was actually the other texting them. No initials meant that someone else was using their phone. The habit had stuck with Tim as well, but he only signed his texts when speaking with Harry.

_At the moment around 6PM. Why? – TM_

_Just wondering. I need to talk to you about something – HP_

The reply came back instantly, as if she had been standing around the house with the phone in her hands and knowing Harry, she probably was.

_Anything that I need to worry about? – TM_

_I'll tell you when you get home – HP_

She was being deliberately vague, which meant that either it was really good news or terribly bad news. Tim looked at the clock on his phone, 2PM, only four hours left he had to wait.

The rest of the afternoon was filled with cold cases and helping out in MTAC when one of the servers decided that it was going to go on strike. By the time Tim clocked out and said goodbye to his teammates he was jumpy, anxious and completely unsure of what he was going to be told when he got home.

If Tony, Ziva or Gibbs noticed anything out of the ordinary they didn't mention it. They had no idea about Harry so there was no mention of Tim going home to her.

Tim preferred it that way; his last two relationships had started in or around NCIS and didn't last more than a few weeks at the most. While his relationship with Harry was unconventional he had yet to gather the courage to tell his team mates that he was dating a woman that had been and still was his long term friend.

Part of the reason was because his relationships ended once his team was involved and the other half had to do with a certain dark haired Goth who had become worse than a father waiting for his daughters' first boyfriend to turn up at the house for a date.

The constant glaring and silent treatment had become a fixture to their relationship when Tim came out about a girlfriend and the resulting coldness from Gibbs and jabs from Ziva and Tony were outcomes that Tim wanted to go without for as long as possible.

Pulling up in the driveway, Tim stared up at the house. Nothing seemed out of place. Teddy's bike was pressed up against the side of the house, where it would stay until Christmas when he came back for the holidays.

The large tree in the front corner of the yard provided shade for flowers that were looking like they were going to wilt because of the heat – Tim made a mental note to see what Penny could do to help them.

Climbing out of the car, bag slung over his shoulder, Tim waited to hear the muffled barks coming from behind the door but he couldn't hear them. The past week had been the same, no welcome home barks from a dog who loved his master; it was the reason why they had decided to take the obviously unwell dog to the vet.

Tim pushed open the door to silence. He quickly looked back out into the driveway to see if Harry's SUV was there. The sight of the big black car confirmed his suspicions and he dropped his bag by a neat line of shoes before walking further into the room.

The sight that awaited him was not unfamiliar. Harry was sitting on the couch, Jet's head resting comfortably on her thigh, the TV on but turned down low enough so it could just be heard while Harry ran her fingers through the fur on Jet's head. It had started as a way for the two of them to bond and had continued until it had become one of Harry's many way's to relax.

Harry looked up when she heard Tim walk into the room and the sight of red-rimmed eyes changed the way Tim looked at the scene in front of him. This wasn't relaxing, this was comfort.

In five strides Time was across the room and kneeling down in front of the obviously upset woman. 'What's wrong? Is Ted ok?'

'Ted's fine,' Harry said. 'He got on the plane alright and other than the usual feeling I get when I have to see him off like this instead of flying with him everything went according to plan.'

'Than what's wrong?'

Harry slid out from underneath Jet, who wined at the loss of her fingers in his fur, and led Tim into the kitchen.

'Jet's sick.'

'I know, that's why I wanted him to go to the vet,' Tim said.

'No Tim, he's really sick. The vet ran some tests and apparently the rush he put on them was a very fast rush. His kidneys are failing.'

'What?' Tim's head snapped over to the dog lying still on the couch, muzzle cushioned on his paws.

'His kidneys are failing. Doctor Michaels isn't sure how much longer he's going to be with us,' Harry explained.

'How-' he paused. 'How did we not notice this?'

'He's old Tim. You got him when he was five-nearly-six-years-old. He's at least double that now.'

'Is there anything that can be done?'

'They could postpone the inevitable, but it's not going to do him any good. He's dying Tim.'

'So we just make him comfortable until he does?'

'We could, but he's going to be in a lot of pain.'

'God,' Tim said, running a hand through his hair and sitting down at the kitchen table. 'What are we going to do?'

'This isn't my choice Tim,' Harry said wrapping her arms around his shoulders. 'I love Jet, you know I do, but when it comes down to it he is your dog and you've got to make the decision and we both know what that decision is.'

The rest of the night was spent in silence, the two of them staying close to the dog, making sure that he was comfortable at all times. What little they were able to get him to drink was filled with something to help him sleep and by ten Jet was out like a light.

Tim tossed and turned all night, knowing what his decision was going to be and going through with it were two completely different things, especially when one obstacle kept popping into his mind.

'Abby is going to kill me,' Tim muttered that morning during breakfast.

'Abby isn't his owner and I haven't seen her come visit Jet once in the past six months. Throw that in her face if she complains,' Harry said harshly over her coffee.

'I know you don't like Abby-'

'Why would I want to like a woman who not only broke your heart but constantly strung you along for years?'

'-but she does care for Jet.'

'If she did care for him as much as you say, she would have moved instead of forcing him on you, who at the time was still getting over him attacking you,' Harry replied. 'Look, Abby doesn't come into the equation. You need to forget about me, forget about Abby and the people who might object to what you decide and think about what is best for Jet in the long run. Is letting him live through weeks, maybe a month of pain really worth having Abby on your back? And if Abby was as animal friendly and protective as you say then she wouldn't and shouldn't kick up a fuss because you decided to cut out what everyone thought and do what was best for Jet.'

The day went slowly. Every ten minutes he felt like ringing Harry to see how Jet was going, but he restrained himself because of the head slap he knew he would get as a result.

Every time Abby walked into the bullpen he was sure that she would work-out the something was wrong with Jet by just looking at him and would explode into a rant filled accusations of poor dog care which would end with the team backing Abby instead of finding out the full story.

Ducky was the first to ask if he was ok, stating loud enough for his teammates to hear that he didn't have the same bounce to his step that he had had for the past month.

'Yeah McSecret, you're looking a little down today.'

'Is everything ok McGee?'

Gibbs said nothing, just looked at him and waiting for a reply.

'It's nothing. I'm just trying to decide something and weighting up all my options,' Tim replied.

'What's bad enough that would cause you to become depressed?' Ziva asked.

'Personal,' was all Tim said on the matter and turned his attention back to the computer screen.

By lunch Tim had made his decision and called Doctor Michaels to organise everything. The rest of the day was sombre, filled with paperwork and dread regarding what was happening that night. He walked into the house and house Harry sitting in the same spot that he had found her in the day before.

She looked up, moved over so Tim could take her place and didn't ask him anything other than: 'When?'

'Tonight. Doctor Michaels agreed to drop by on after he finished. I figured that it would be better for him if he passed on in a place that was familiar and known that he was loved,' Tim replied scratching between Jet's ears.

'I think you made the right decision,' Harry said wrapping her arms around his waist.

Tim gave her a small smile and focused his eyes on the faithful dog resting his head on his thigh. Half-an-hour later the doorbell rang, and Harry left the two boys alone as she answered it.

'You know we didn't start off on a good foot,' Tim said, his voice cracking. 'But I don't think I could think of a better dog I could have had.'

Jet gave a small wine in reply, brown eyes looking up at his master filled with love.

It didn't look like Jet felt the shot at all and after organising the after death details, Harry took up her spot next to Tim, her arms wrapped around his waist and the both of them running their fingers through Jet's fur. Neither slept that night, even after Jet passed on, unwilling to leave him alone.

After calling in sick, and saying their final goodbyes to Jet's body; he was picked up and taken away, to where Tim was unsure. That day was spent in bed, Tim holding onto Harry as they both grieved in their own way.

Tim said nothing about what happened when he got back to work and the team didn't asked him about it. Work was good; it kept his mind off everything. Three cases kept his mind off of the empty dog bed resting at the foot of their bed, it kept his mind off of the chew toys littering the backyard and it kept his mind off of telling Abby.

It wasn't until Tim came home three weeks later and spotted the small, silver urn with Jet's dog collar draped over it on the mantle that he let his mind think of his four legged friend for the first time. He didn't feel the all-consuming grief that had hit him the day after; he had actually reached a point of acceptance much sooner than he had when his Grandpa Norman died or when Kate died.

It felt good to know that he could think of all the memories that he had and not feel like he was suffocating.

The sound of a box hitting the floor drew it out to the back deck where two boxes were filled with Jet's toys and where Harry was folding out the blanket that had been Jet's favourite to lounge on when they sat outside.

'Hey,' Harry said softly, pushing dark hair out of her face.

'Hey.'

'I'm sorry, I just thought that I'd pack these things up and put them in the attic for now until you were willing to deal with them,' Harry replied, her English accent coming more apparent.

'Thanks,' Tim said picking up the tug-of-war rope from the top of one of the boxes. 'What do you think we should do with all of this?'

Harry smiled. 'I thought we could give it to a shelter who might need it or…'

'Or…'

'We could just keep it in the attic if you think that one day you might want to get another dog,' Harry explained.

'If we want to get another dog,' Tim corrected.

'We?'

'Yeah, unless you don't plan of staying with me for as long as I thought you would,' Tim smiled.

'No, we is good. I like the sound of we,' Harry said smiling.

'I think the shelter sounds like a good idea,' Tim replied.

'You do? What about the dog that _we_ want?'

'We'll get new things,' Tim said. 'After all it'll be _our_ dog. A new beginning, but not just yet, I don't want to get a rebound dog.'

'Good plan,' Harry said, wrapping her arms around his waist and kissing him. 'I did realise one thing today.'

'Which was.'

'We should have moved in together a lot sooner.'

'Why do you say that?' Tim asked.

'Well, Jet only got to live here with his own big back yard for six months,' Harry said. 'The rest of his life was spent in the Navy or in your apartment. Not exactly the life of luxury.'

'No, but he did get to retire in style,' Tim said kissing Harry's temple.

'That he did,' Harry said. 'What do you say we order Indian and watch Jet's favourite movie?'


End file.
